


Fantasy

by sleeptalkingjr



Series: Hades [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Minor Kim Wonshik | Ravi/Lee Jaehwan | Ken, PLS GIVE THIS FIC LOVE, childhood crush, don't let my debut flop folkitos, for now, hakyeon is whipped for hongbin and taekwoon, hongbin hates school, hongbin is whipped for hakyeon and taekwoon, idk how to tag oops, so do i lmao, stan loona, taekwoon is the devil's immortal cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 16:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16453022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptalkingjr/pseuds/sleeptalkingjr
Summary: In which Hongbin accidentally steals the God of the Underworld’s cat and refuses to return him.





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> so!! here it is, fellas, hongbin being a stubborn brat and refusing to return Hades his immortal cat taekwoon and Hades finding a way to share him without hongbin suspecting a thing (kind of)
> 
> i tried to base a lot of the character dynamics off Battle Trip and whatever and tried my best to please you chabin shippers ;; the ... four of you that exist...
> 
> and the greek mythology concept isn’t AS clear here, yet, and it probably won’t be very accurate in Parts 2 and 3 either but we’ll see
> 
> also hakyeon and hongbin are 16-17 here and this shit is set in London bc i was too lazy to research 
> 
> anyway, this is my ao3 debut and i hope it doesn’t flop lmao bc this fic has found itself a very special place in my heart and i hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> comment your thoughts and pls give this newborn some love

“That’s odd.”

The woman frowns.

Hongbin blinks in confusion at her. “Odd?” he echoes blankly. “What’s odd?” Concerned, his pupils dart in search of Taekwoon’s: they’re sheltered partially by his lowered lids, as per usual. Two dusky slits meet Hongbin’s perplexed gaze. They glint.

The cat makes a noise like a deep, tired sigh, and arches his back.

And then he meows.

Hongbin shakes his head.

“It seems … your cat—”

“Taekwoon.”

“Taekwoon—seems to be … well, to put it simply,” the vet frowns again, looking even more baffled than before with her eyes squinted and fingers trapped by her blunt teeth; “Taekwoon isn’t—he doesn’t seem to be … _aging_.”

Hongbin blinks.

Again.

“Pardon?”

“Well.” The woman chuckles nervously, shaking her head as if unable to believe her own words. Which is pretty understandable, Hongbin thinks, considering she’s just suggested that Hongbin’s cat is, “simply”, fucking immortal. And that, to some extent, is kind of cool. Perhaps. Sort of. A little. Hongbin isn’t really sure? “He hasn’t been gaining weight or losing any, at all, for instance—for quite a while,” she persists. “Do you feed him healthy portions regularly?”

“Yes.”

“Have you noticed any digestion difficulties?”

“Uh—” Hongbin’s face contorts. “I don’t—think so?”

“Fluctuating sleeping patterns?”

“He’s the same as always.”

“But he’s growing old?”

“He’s—” Hongbin and the cat lock eyes once more. The boy struggles. “He’s supposed to be, I guess?” he manages at last. He can’t help it: can’t help his tone which keeps flicking upwards constantly like the tail of a—like the tail of a cat, like everything he’s saying is a fucking question. But questions are meant to express confusion and uncertainty and he _is_ confused right now, he _is_ uncertain, he has no idea what the fuck is going on and if his cat is immortal and if he remembered to lock the door before coming here and what he’s going to do and why Taekwoon won’t stop bloody _staring_ at him like that.

 _“Stop it,”_ he hisses once the vet resumes pulling faces at her computer screen.

Taekwoon meows again and twists away.

“Did you say something?” the woman interrupts the couple’s exchange, one eyebrow arched in a sea of creases lining her forehead.

Hongbin flushes darkly and shakes his head.

“Well. I can’t say I’m very sure of the current situation regarding your … cat,” she admits, eyeing Taekwoon and saying the word “cat” as though she isn’t very sure he’s a cat at all. She shoots Hongbin a glance and signals for him to retrieve a sheet of paper on her desk, which Hongbin quickly recognises as a letter regarding a second appointment.

He groans.

“It’s important we have another appointment soon to check up on him again. And I can call in some specialists.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have any queries?”

Hongbin raises his eyebrows. “Uh. Not really.” It’s proving immensely difficult not to keep saying everything like it’s a damn question.

The woman gives a tight smile. “Well then. I think that’ll be all for now. Have a good day, Hongbin, and—” Her eyes slide over to Taekwoon’s, which still possess a sly sparkle that causes the woman to shiver: Hongbin notices, he never fails in doing so. “—Taekwoon. See you soon.”

“Bye,” Hongbin waves slightly.

Taekwoon yawns.

 

*

 

“Immortal? You? Damn. How many owners have you had before me, huh, Taek?” Hongbin asks the jet black cat nestled on his sofa, curled up with his head tucked and eyes half-lidded. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, the boy winces as he pushes away a plate of grapes and glances from the pile of textbooks in front of him to his computer waiting eagerly several metres away.

He hesitates.

But Taekwoon is quick in voicing his disapproval.  

Hongbin scowls. “Alright, fine. Jeez.” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t. I’ll finish my homework. Happy?”

The cat purrs, satisfied.

His owner can only sigh.

 

*

 

College is annoying. Hongbin has to wake up earlier than usual and the 93 bus is nearly always late. His teachers force him to contribute during class when he’d much rather daydream about—well, anything other than school, really. And when he’s forced to contribute he’s forced to speak and because he’s busy daydreaming all the time he can literally never give a correct answer, so everyone laughs, and he doesn’t know if Hakyeon is laughing too, but he probably is, and he hates that.

He hopes Taekwoon is sleeping peacefully. He daydreams about him a lot, and Hakyeon, too. A lot.

Sometimes too much.

Sometimes in too vivid detail.

 

 

_Hakyeon was there the day Hongbin found Taekwoon. Skipping along the opposite pavement, on the way home from primary school. An afternoon strangely hot for springtime. Hongbin’s shoes were tattered and ripped as always and so walking home that day felt like scuttling on sizzling coals; perhaps that was why Hakyeon looked as though he were dancing ballet as he soared through the scorching sunshine. Hongbin couldn’t help but watch in awe, eyes wide and mouth agape although he didn’t realise it until Hakyeon caught him and smiled._

_He felt dizzy, then—as he tore his eyes away._

_Until he found himself tripping over something suddenly and went crashing into the pavement, face-first, a humiliating heap on the floor._

_His luck, really._

_“Ow—ow,” he whimpered, struggling to disentangle himself, frowning and squinting when he realised something else—he wasn’t, exactly, alone right now._

_And that didn’t include Hakyeon._

_“What?” He grimaced as he felt fur scrape against his skin. His eyes widened and locked with a pair of shielded shadowy pools of chocolate, glimmering and glistening._

_The leather black cat meowed._

_Hongbin glanced at the other pavement._

_Hakyeon had vanished._

_He bit his lip. “Sorry I tripped over you,” he told the cat, as sincerely as he could manage whilst feeling particularly annoyed. It was the cat’s fault anyway; it was the reason why he’d made such a fool of himself in front of Hakyeon, of all people. It should’ve been the cat apologising. Not him._

_But still, he was the one apologising now, and the cat seemed to be more than happy with that. Maybe it was also aware that it wasn’t Hongbin’s fault, because it abruptly began to purr, rubbing the boy’s leg with its head and holding its tail up high in the air._

_Hongbin stiffened; then relaxed._

_It was a rather nice cat, he thought. Not so bad. And it had no collar—no signs of having an owner. Was it a stray? Did it need a home?_

_He had a home._

_He thought about it for a second._

_The cat purred._

_He made up his mind._

 

*

 

It’s hot again.

London can’t seem to make up its mind. The whole week, it rained; and yesterday, a storm: Taekwoon hated it, hated it aggressively, and Hongbin had to bury him in blankets to blot out the clamour of roaring thunder. Still, Taekwoon wouldn’t stop hissing and growling and Hongbin felt bad and hated London weather.

But today there is only sunshine. Blistering, sweltering sunshine.

Hongbin is exhausted.

Class was exhausting: his teacher wouldn’t stop picking on him. And Hongbin wouldn’t stop giving incorrect answers.

He didn’t really care much, though. Just wanted to go home.

And Hakyeon doesn’t even take computer science; he wasn’t there to see.

Hongbin hopes Taekwoon is happy it isn’t raining at all today.

Hakyeon moved a few years ago, sometime during secondary school. It was one of the worst days of Hongbin’s life, when he found out he now lived more than an hour away. But relieved didn’t even begin to describe how he felt when he heard Hakyeon hadn’t moved to another school, only another house.

His prayers had been enough after all.

Still, he now has no choice but to walk home alone: with no friendly face on the opposite pavement; no inky black cat trotting beside him; and no console or computer to keep him company. It’s lonely, and tedious.

He sighs; slouches; stares at his feet.

Amused, the sun sneers.

Hongbin retorts with a scowl.

 

*

 

“Taek?”

Hongbin shuts the door behind him; groans. Dropping his keys onto the table, he wanders over to the sofa, expecting to find Taekwoon there, curled up, fast asleep.

He isn’t.

Hongbin frowns.

“Huh. Weird.”

He checks his room.

Taekwoon stands in the centre—stiff. His head is turned slightly, so that Hongbin can see his eyes, which are wide, very wide: an unfamiliar sight.

Too unfamiliar.

His chest is still.

His stare is fixed.

He looks like a statue.

Hongbin surges forwards like a wave crashing onto a beach. “Taek? Taekwoonie?” he manages to choke out, kneeling in front of the cat and resisting the urge to shake him violently out of his daze—he’s too scared to touch him anyway.

He hopes this is just a stupid nightmare and he’ll wake up soon.

But something tells him that isn’t going to happen.

Pathetically, he croaks, “Taekwoonie? Taekwoon? Taek, please—Taek? Taekwoon? Please, _Taek_ —”

“He can’t hear you.”

Hongbin whips around, breathing harshly.

A dark figure reclines on his windowsill, legs swaying faintly, head tilted to the side.

The boy’s heart stops.

“He’s paralysed.”

The shadow drops to the ground. He’s freakishly tall, towering over Hongbin, who shrinks back and sinks to the floor.

“He’s not yours.”

Hongbin shakes his head, brows knitting together. “He _is_ mine. He’s my cat. I found him—”

“He got lost,” the silhouette explains smoothly, crisply. “His master has been looking for him for a long time. But now he’s found him. And he wants him to be returned.”

Hongbin hesitates. Instinctively, he reaches out to coax Taekwoon to move beside him; but remembering the current situation, he resorts only to biting his lip—letting his hand drop, lifeless, to his side.

_His master._

Hongbin trembles. “Can you fix him?” he pleads. “Do you know how to? Please, I need—”

“I can’t fix him,” the figure interjects. He cocks an eyebrow at the boy; shrugs. “But his master can.”

Hongbin’s eyes narrow. The word “master” makes his stomach flip and twist and his mind cloud and fog. He inhales shakily. “Can you—can you take me to him?” he croaks feebly, chest rising and plummeting like urgent tides.

The ominous figure chuckles humourlessly, a bony finger tracing down Hongbin’s spine as the sound trickles down the walls and engulfs the room. He shivers.

“I’m afraid I can’t really do that,” the shadow responds at last, leaning forwards and grinning dangerously and ravenously at the quivering boy, “ _Hongbin Lee_.”

Hongbin recoils.

His blood turns colder than ice.

“What—What did you say?” he splutters, ogling the other in shock.

A corner of the stranger’s mouth curls upwards.

“Hongbin Lee,” he repeats, smugly, hands folded behind his head and one eye fluttering close in a wink. “Hermes. At your service. Well, Sanghyuk is the man you’re looking at right now. It’s a—little disguise, let’s call it that, to save you from sudden death if you ever actually saw a God. Face-to-face. In real life. That’d be a bit overwhelming, wouldn’t it?” He cracks a blinding grin; gestures to Taekwoon. “‘Taekwoon’—as you call him—his owner oversees the Underworld. Hades—recognise the name?” His beam widens when Hongbin chokes. “Not a big fan of leaving the Underworld, the guy, but this kitty here, Zeus, isn’t a big fan of being told what to do. And Hades will let him get away with anything—obsessed with the cat. Not sure what the fuss is about, personally, but anyway. Lost his cat during a game of hide-and-seek, old sap.”

Hongbin blinks.

He opens his mouth; closes it again; starts to slowly back away.

He feels sick.

“It’s a—long story.” The stranger—Sanghyuk, Hermes, whatever—pauses, covering his mouth with a large fist in a fruitless attempt to stifle his giggles. “But anyway, the point is, Hades doesn’t like it when his wishes aren’t granted quickly, and he’d like an answer soon. He’s pretty impatient and he’s annoying like that, so I wouldn’t take my cha— _fuck_.” Sanghyuk winces suddenly, groaning, holding a hand over his ear and yelling: “Hey, cut it out! Sorry, jeez, fuck’s sake. I was kidding. Do you not know how to take a—? But the script was _long_ , alright? I had to improvise— _Fuck_ — Stop doing that! Alright, jeez, I’m done, I’m _done_. Fucker. _Ow._ ”

Hongbin blinks again. He watches helplessly from the floor, eyes bulging, arms wrapped around himself as he shakes, brows furrowing when the two lock eyes again.

_Hades._

Sanghyuk smiles meekly. “Yeah, uh. That was him. He said he wants the cat back. Soon. Pretty soon.”

Hongbin pulls the statue of Taekwoon into his arms. His blood is pounding in his ears. His throat is drier than sandpaper.

There’s no way this is real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

Breathing hard, he shakes his head.

Sanghyuk flinches again. “He wants—”

“He’s mine,” Hongbin squeaks, breathing heavily again. He’s shaking all over, shaking too much, it’s pissing him the hell off, but he won’t let this— _“master”_ or whatever, this master of the Underworld or whatever, fucking _Hades_ apparently … he won’t let him take Taekwoon away from him.

He won’t.

And he can’t.

Sanghyuk doesn’t say anything—only waits for several moments in silence, eyes squinted slightly, lips pursed.

And then he nods.

“You can keep him,” he concludes, simply. Hongbin waits—waits for there to be a catch, a request, or something.

But Sanghyuk is already starting to leave, reaching out as though preparing to climb down from Hongbin’s bedroom window.

Hongbin’s lids flutter.

_Hades._

He calls out. “Wait!”

The silhouette stops; turns. “Yes?”

“I can keep him?”

Sanghyuk raises an eyebrow; nods nevertheless. “You can. But just—remember this.” He smiles, knowingly, frustratingly. Hongbin bites his lip; swallows thickly when the other stands over him, bending down to whisper into his ear: “His master shall be keeping a very close eye on you from now on.”

His breath is hot and heavy and tickles his ear; Hongbin gulps and shudders.

And then Sanghyuk straightens his back and springs onto the windowsill, pausing to give a brief wave and blinding smile before leaping out of sight.

Hongbin’s heart stops. He scrambles to his feet, rushing to the window and poking his head outside.

Sanghyuk is gone.

Taekwoon meows softly.

 

*

 

Hongbin’s never really noticed how strange Hakyeon’s eyes are. Strange; enthralling; unsettling.

No, he’s always thought of them only as a plain, dull brown.

But today there’s a forest growing in those murky, misty irises. Dark, thick, obscure; almost black or green. Hongbin reaches into them and gets tangled in vines and thorns; feels his skin prickle and sing. Thrilled by this sensation of suffocation, he grips onto his desk and inhales deeply, before plunging into the darkness; venturing into the mist.

There’s no way he’s never noticed this before. Hakyeon’s eyes are _beautiful_.

But perhaps he’s never noticed because Hakyeon’s never looked at him this way.

Or at all.

Hongbin freezes.

Hakyeon is— _looking_ at him. Staring.

And he’s staring back.

_Fuck._

Cheeks aflame, Hongbin rapidly averts his gaze, focusing his attention to the front of the class. His chemistry teacher has probably asked him a question, he thinks. Hakyeon is simply waiting for his answer.

But the teacher is busy helping out another student: she hasn’t called on him at all.

Hongbin frowns.

Boldly, he hazards a glance in Hakyeon’s direction—only to realise that the other is still watching him intently, and now he’s even smiling.

Hongbin bites his lip.

His stomach curls.

 

*

 

Jaehwan chokes on his lollipop; throws his head back; _screams_ with laughter.

Wonshik sighs.

Hongbin scowls.

“Why the fuck would I make this up? I’m being serious.”

 _“Serious?”_ Jaehwan guffaws, leaning so far back he nearly falls off the bench.

Hongbin’s disappointed when he doesn’t.

“Binnie, you gotta understand why we’re a little—a little doubtful,” Wonshik starts tentatively, shaking his head at the cackling Jaehwan beside him.

“‘A little’.”

“Hongbin, a—a _Greek God_ showed up in your bedroom, out of nowhere? Hermes? And your cat was frozen stiff and apparently belongs to _Hades_? Fucking Hades, Hongbin?”

Jaehwan screeches.

Hongbin covers his face with his hands.

“Dude,” Wonshik shakes his head, squeezing the other’s shoulder. “It was probably a dream or something, alright? Too much weed or something?”

“I’m not you, Wonshik,” Hongbin spits, forcing his eyes away when Wonshik’s eyes widen in surprise.

This time Jaehwan _does_ fall off the bench.

Hongbin finishes his lunch in silence.

 

*

 

Footsteps.

Closer.

Getting closer.

Too close.

Hongbin pauses; turns.

Hakyeon skids to a halt behind him, skin shimmering in the sunlight; eyes deep and dark and hair short and thick. Hongbin still isn’t used to beholding those mystical irises, notices this new haircut must be the reason he’s never noticed them before.

He holds his breath; prays for his ribcage’s safety.

His chest feels tight.

His heart thrashes about.

He might explode.

“Hi,” Hakyeon chirps breezily, smiling widely.

_Fuck._

His smile.

Hongbin chokes out his response: “H-hello.”

“Your cat isn’t walking with you today?”

Hongbin blinks rapidly. His mouth dries up. His … _cat_? Taekwoon? Is Hakyeon talking about … _Taekwoon_? “M-my—”

“Your place isn’t far from here, is it? I thought I might stay over, and we could make a start on the chemistry homework. Up for that, Binnie?” the boy beams, radiant as ever despite the eerie dark halo circling his head.

Hongbin blinks, again.

Fuck.

_Binnie._

He shakes his head.

No fucking way.

He isn’t hearing this right.

He _can’t_ be hearing this right.

He’s dreaming. He _must_ be.

Hakyeon frowns. “No? Turning down my offer, Hongbin Lee? Well damn, your standards are pretty high then, huh? To refuse even the great Hakyeon—”

Hongbin chokes.

_The great Hakyeon?_

“I—I didn’t mean— We’re not—”

“We’re not…?” The boy leans closer.

Hongbin jerks away. What the _fuck_ is going on? “I— That sounds good,” he blurts, eyelids still fluttering frantically. “That sounds—”

“Great! I’ll lead the way,” Hakyeon smiles, spinning daintily on his toes like the elegant dancer he always has been. Hongbin notices a weight in his step, however, when he begins marching down the road: his footsteps heavier and more grounded than his usual graceful gait.

But then Hakyeon is looking back at him.

Gulping, he drops his head.

His heartbeat gallops as he trudges dutifully after the other.

 

*

 

Hongbin has no idea when exactly Hakyeon became so interested in his cat, but he’s definitely sure of one thing now:

Hakyeon. Fucking. _Loves._ Taekwoon.

And that’s an understatement.

“Oh! Oh! Isn’t he cute? My, the cutest! Adorable kitty!” Hakyeon squeals upon setting foot in Hongbin’s flat, dropping his schoolbag and hurling himself onto the sofa.

Hongbin, alarmed, scuttles after him. “Wait, wait! Taek doesn’t like—” he starts, desperately attempting to defend Taekwoon from his fear (or rather, extreme loathing) of strangers; but the delicate sound of Taekwoon’s purring, and the sight of him nestled comfortably in Hakyeon’s lap, forces Hongbin to skid to a halt, eyes widening and jaw smacking against the ground.

He’s never seen Taekwoon so at peace; so … at _home_.

But Hakyeon isn’t home. At least, he’s not supposed to be.

Taekwoon nudges the guest playfully.

“Cute kitty,” Hakyeon hums into the cat’s dark fur, obsidian hair hanging over his eyes so he looks a bit like—Taekwoon.

Hongbin blinks as the other lifts his gaze again.

The guest smiles. It sets his entire face alight.

“So, about that homework?”

 

*

 

“So, about that homework?” Hongbin echoes the other’s words from earlier, a scowl inching onto his face.

He’s never really talked with Hakyeon, or hung out with him or … anything, really. He’s always just watched him longingly from a distance; never wondering what it would be like to actually _talk_ to him. Not even like, simply, asking for a rubber.

But now that they’ve basically soared past that stage, Hongbin can’t believe how _frustrating_ Hakyeon really is.

For example, he’s starting to think Hakyeon mainly planned this meetup or whatever just to be with Taekwoon.

Because Hongbin hasn’t even caught a _glimpse_ of Hakyeon’s chemistry textbook since his arrival.

Instead, he’s been watching him cuddle Taekwoon (and Taekwoon, to Hongbin’s tremendous surprise, happily return the favour) and not cast his eyes _once_ in Hongbin’s direction.

It’s completely, utterly ridiculous.

Again, Hongbin clears his throat. “About that homework?” he repeats a little louder, head ducking down when the other’s eyes dart rapidly in his direction.

Hakyeon’s response is contemptuous, to Hongbin’s dismay: “Homework?” he practically whines, throwing his head to one side. “You really want to do homework? When we could do something else, like…” His eyes sweep the room as Hongbin sighs deeply. Then the other’s face lights up again; appearing impressively fluorescent because of the darkened rue his hair seems to have embraced overnight. “Watch a movie?”

Hongbin scoffs.

_Hell no._

Again, Hakyeon complains. “Why not? It’ll be fun!” he declares, in spite of Hongbin who shakes his head vigorously.

_Nope. No fucking way._

 

*

 

Hakyeon picks The Fault in Our Stars.

It’s awful.

And what’s more, Hakyeon seems to dislike it even more than Hongbin, eyes wandering to the sofa after the first few seconds have chugged past.

Even Taekwoon is bored, yawning loudly and pointedly.

Hongbin glances at the clock.

Hakyeon gives in. Grabbing the remote to pause the film (although there’s really no point), he turns excitedly to Hongbin, flashing a grin. “Got any popcorn?”

Hongbin grunts.

He’s hauled into the kitchen before he can say a word.

 

*

 

Hakyeon is thrilled to dictate the process of popcorn-making: urging Hongbin to “hurry, hurry, hurry” with various tasks he hollers, slapping his back repeatedly; barking at him and claiming he “doesn’t know what he’s doing” when Hongbin suggests the popcorn has been in the pan for too long; and blaming the result of semi-burnt popcorn entirely on his victim, refusing to acknowledge his contribution to the process whatsoever.

But when the popcorn ends up tasting, surprisingly, not that bad, Hakyeon suddenly seems to have no problem at all with taking all the credit. “Do you taste that, Hongbin? You taste that? That’s the taste of _luxury_ , Hongbin Lee, that’s stellar cuisine for you, _divine_ cuisine, top quality, top class, you _wish_ you could—”

Hakyeon’s words are cut off abruptly when a flake of popcorn strikes his cheek.

He freezes, mouth agape, eyes unblinking.

Slowly, he turns his head to stare at Hongbin, who stares back fixedly.

On the TV screen, Hazel Grace, Augustus and Isaac pelt a car with eggs, howling with laughter.

In Hongbin’s living room, two boys grin at each other, emptying large bowls of popcorn on each other’s heads and snickering.

Taekwoon purrs, amused.

 

*

 

“Let me feed you.”

Hongbin’s eyes widen.

He ogles Hakyeon who gazes back, unfazed, blinking slow and steady.

Hongbin’s heart races.

“Uh—what? Ew, no.”

Hakyeon pouts. “Why not?”

“That’s—” His breath hitches in his throat as Hakyeon crawls towards him on all fours. “— _gross_.”

Hakyeon pauses; whines. “It’s not. It’s cute.”

Hongbin’s heart plummets.

_Cute._

_Fuck._

*

 

The popcorn is finished promptly: several seconds before Augustus and Hazel Grace, faces glowing with excitement and lust, barrel into a hotel room and find themselves entangled in a rather … PG-13 embrace.

Hongbin coughs awkwardly on some popcorn lodged in his throat.

Hakyeon, wincing, switches off the TV.

He turns to Hongbin and raises his brows.

“You any good at Chemistry, then?” he hums, cocking his head.

Recognising the connotations, Hongbin’s cheeks colour thickly.

Hakyeon, noticing, smirks.

He casts his glance to the door of Hongbin’s bedroom, increasing the pace of Hongbin’s heartbeat to a frenzied gallop—only to look back at the other and ask dully, “Any coloured card?”

“Coloured what?”

“Don’t you know how to structure your workload?” He sighs exaggeratedly; Hongbin rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna do schoolwork, at least be organised about it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well”—Hakyeon gets to his feet—“I do.”

Hongbin bows his head as his guest barges into his bedroom.

 

*

 

“What the fuck is that?”

Hakyeon shoots daggers at Hongbin, who shuts up immediately, but still rolls his eyes. “It’s,” Hakyeon begins, smug as ever, holding up his vibrant invention and his head high also, “a plan. We have a Chemistry test next week, did you know that?”

“No.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Again with the exaggerated sighing. Hongbin wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both. “Well, see this here? This is how we’re gonna get _you_ an A*.”

Hongbin guffaws. _Sure._

Hakyeon smacks his head.

Hongbin doesn’t think he’s ever been so in love.

 

*               

 

“And the symbol equation for glucose is…?”

Hongbin yawns. “It’s”—he glances up at the clock jeering down at him, squints—“nearly eleven, man. I woke up at six.”

“Wrong.”

Hongbin huffs. “C6H14O6.”

“Close. There are twelve hydrogen atoms only.”

“Twelve, fourteen, same thing.”

“Failing, passing, same thing.”

Hongbin glares. “I told you, I don’t care.”

“But you could easily pass if you did, so why don’t you bother?”

“Just—” _Why do you even care? We’ve never even talked, until…_

It’s eleven o’ clock. Hakyeon is trying to pretend he isn’t tired, but Hongbin can see right through him. He’s yawned twice; both times stuffing a fist into his mouth to stifle the noise, eyes widening as though it wasn’t already obvious enough.

Hongbin’s eyelids are heavy; they hang over his pupils. The taste of drowsiness intoxicates his senses, the coloured card being shoved in his face glowing painfully and vividly, burning his eyes—his skull.

He moans, exhausted.

Hakyeon gets to his feet. “Fine. We’ll call it a night. You did better than I thought you would, anyway.” He smiles.

“Better than you expected? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean. By the way, I’m staying over tonight.”

Hongbin splutters.

He literally chokes on air.

“W-what the fuck?”

Hakyeon’s smile widens, glistening sweetly and mischievously.

Hongbin wants to dissolve.

 

*

 

“You’re lucky my parents are on holiday.”

“Ah, perfect timing.”

Hongbin narrows his eyes.

Taekwoon wanders into the room, meowing and staring at both boys with a baffled expression etched onto his face. His eyes glint with the faintest tinge of amusement.

Hongbin shakes his head. “Taek sometimes climbs onto me at night. You should sleep on the sofa outside.”

“Don’t wanna.” Hakyeon launches himself onto Hongbin’s bed, folding his arms behind his head and winking at the other, whose face engulfs itself in a blistering sea of heat at the shocking sight. “Taek’s adorable, anyway. I don’t mind at all.”

Hongbin doesn’t know what to say.

 

*

 

Hongbin can’t sleep.

The sofa is far too small, his long legs dangling off the edge and one broad shoulder also hovering in mid-air. His entire body aches and is numb and he has no idea what to think about this situation, no idea when Hakyeon acknowledged his existence firstly and secondly when he started to care so much? When did he become so interested? Sure, they went to the same primary school, but had they ever exchanged more than a single word to each other? No, not at all.

Beneath Hongbin’s weight, the sofa wheezes. He sighs; drags himself to his feet; staggers.

He’s so fucking exhausted.

His skull splits in half.

 

*

 

Hakyeon is beautiful.

In the dimness of Hongbin’s bedroom, splayed across Hongbin’s duvet, long legs stretched and arms clutching a sleeping Taekwoon tightly to his chest, snoring softly and delicately. Skin glowing in faint lamplight; obsidian hair like coal in a faded furnace; cherry red lips partially open…

Hongbin’s breath hitches in his throat.

Taekwoon stirs; lifts his head.

“He took the whole bed,” Hongbin grumbles.

Taekwoon titters.

Hongbin sighs.

He edges towards the bed, pokes Hakyeon’s side. Nudges, gently. Pushes.

Hakyeon moans quietly; rolls onto his side.

Hongbin grins. Triumphantly, he slips beneath the covers beside Hakyeon, heart thudding painfully and excitedly in his throat. He pulls the covers over his head, shutting his eyes and sighing. _Finally—time to fucking sleep._

But Hakyeon has other ideas. He rolls over again, onto his other side instead—knocking into Hongbin and, catching the other off-guard, sending him toppling to the ground in a tousled, mortified, humongous heap.

Hongbin groans.

Hakyeon sits up, grinning lazily. “Enjoyed the view?”

“Didn’t have time to. You fucking knocked me off the bed.”

“My bad.”

Hongbin buries his burning face in the carpet.

 

*

 

“Hey, Bean!” Hakyeon calls out to Hongbin the next day at lunch, smiling with the brilliance of a million shimmering suns.

Speechless, Hongbin freezes, watching with bulging eyes as the other bounds towards him, Jaehwan and Wonshik rooted to the spot beside him with their jaws unhinged.

Hakyeon pinches Hongbin’s cheek. “Sorry I wasn’t there in the morning. Good sleep? Still remember the symbol equation for glucose?” He winks.

Wonshik chokes.

Jaehwan slaps his mouth to smother a scream.

Hongbin gapes.

Hakyeon, observing their reactions, throws back his head and clutches his stomach as he chortles. The sound is delicate and melodious—beautiful—music to Hongbin’s ears. Still, he can’t move; can’t speak; can’t think. Mesmerised, he beholds Hakyeon as though he were one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and when their eyes meet he knows Hakyeon can tell he’s in love with him.

He doesn’t know how to hide it; he’s never needed to.

But now—suddenly—he does.

He doesn’t want to.

 

*

 

“What the fuck just happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did—? _Was that—?_ ”

“Yes. It was.” Wonshik can’t quite believe it himself. He stares back levelly at Jaehwan, whose eyes look like they’re gonna pop out of their sockets any second now.

_“That was—?”_

“Yes.”

“Am I—?”

“Nope.”

“Are you being—?”

“Yes.” Wonshik sighs.

Jaehwan squawks.

“I know.”

_“Damn.”_

“Yup.”

“Shit, dude. When the _fuck_ did we miss all that?”

Wonshik can only shrug.

 

*

 

When it’s Hakyeon’s turn to answer the register, nobody responds—except for the room filling steadily with a stifling silence.

Puzzled, Hongbin twists in his seat, searching for a familiar head of obsidian.

Hakyeon is nowhere to be seen.

“Hakyeon? Hakyeon?” their teacher frowns, inspecting the classroom and its inhabitants. “He was marked present the whole day. Does anyone know where he is?”

Nobody knows where Star Student Hakyeon could be.

No one.

 

*

 

It smells like smoke. Thick, intoxicating—Hongbin wrinkles his nose.

Hakyeon materialises beside him. “Thought you’d seen the last of me?” he hums, raising his eyebrows.

Hongbin grimaces. “Wish I had. Where did you go at lunch? And why weren’t you in Chem?”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes. “So many questions. You missed me that much, huh?” he teases, smiling so wide Hongbin can’t at all find it in himself to be mad. He skips happily along the pavement to Hongbin’s left, movements somewhat graceful despite the odd heaviness in his step.

The sun engulfs his skin.

He glows.

Reluctantly, Hongbin forces his eyes away. “Following me home again?” he rasps, staring at his feet. _Please say yes._

“Maybe.”

Hongbin bites his lip. “Taek was looking for you.”

 “Oh? He was?” Hakyeon’s face lights up. “Cutie. I love him.”

“You met him yesterday.”

“Did I?”

Hongbin’s head jerks towards him.

Hakyeon isn’t looking at him—but there’s a smirk glued onto his face.

Hongbin’s eyes narrow; his insides twist.  

 

*

 

“Hongbin, dear?”

Hongbin glances up from his console.

“Hakyeon—he went to your primary school, didn’t he?”

“Hakyeon?” Hongbin blinks; furrows his brows. “He—uh—yeah. He did.”

His mother purses her lips. “Apparently he’s gone missing. You haven’t seen him recently?”

Hongbin blinks. His stomach turns, once; and then it turns again. “I—” He nearly chokes.

_Where did you go at lunch?_

_Why weren’t you in Chem?_

_You missed me that much, huh?_

“No.” He shakes his head, breathless. “No, I haven’t.”

He struggles to hear his mother’s reply over the thunderous roar of his heartbeat.

 

 

_Hongbin shrank into himself; taped to the wall in the corner of the cold, callous classroom; eyes wide; immersed in his own arms. His breathing: shallow yet dense. His heartbeat: slow yet frantic._

_His crush: wafting towards him._

_Hongbin quivered as Hakyeon loomed over him, brushing cinnamon curls out of his honey-coloured eyes and blinking gently._

_“Hongbin?”_

Oh.

_Hearing his name on that boy’s tongue._

_Hongbin couldn’t respond._

_“Oh. The teacher told me to tell you to come to the front.”_

The teacher told me to tell you.

 _Hakyeon bit his lip; Hongbin thought he was probably infuriated. Hongbin thought Hakyeon would rather be anywhere else than here, hunched in the corner of their form room, talking to_ him _. Being told to talk to him._

_Hongbin wanted to throw up._

_“Are you okay?”_

He hates me.

_“I’m sorry,” Hongbin grimaced. He swallowed the taste of his own vomit and staggered to his feet, nearly swaying into the other boy._

_“That’s—alright.”_

It’s not.

 

 

_Taekwoon hissed at Hakyeon, paw shooting out and nearly striking the startled boy._

_“Taekwoon, no! Oh my God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” Hongbin spluttered, scooping Taekwoon up and bowing his head, ribs sore as his heart battered it mercilessly. “Oh my— I’m sorry—”_

_“It’s fine.” Hakyeon smiled tightly, eyes struggling to remain on Hongbin and flitting fretfully to the glowering cat in the other’s arms._

No, _Hongbin thought, blinking rapidly, watching with watering eyes as Hakyeon hurried away from him._ It’s _not_.

 

*

 

“I never thought of you as the kind to bunk—or run away from home.”

“And I never thought of you as the kind to ask so many questions, Hongbin Lee,” Hakyeon shoots back, eyebrows raised.

Hongbin swallows thickly, narrowing his eyes and directing them to his crossed legs.

Nestled in Hakyeon’s lap, Taekwoon meows, perplexed, glancing from one boy to the other.

Hongbin threads a hand through his hair, blowing out his cheeks. His mother has been out for too long: she’s bound to be home soon. And how’s she gonna react when she sees Hakyeon in the middle of her living room, Hongbin sat beside him and their cat propped in the boy’s lap?

He gulps.

His eyes find the clock on the wall.

Hakyeon scoffs. “Always so bothered about the time.”

“My mum thinks we haven’t spoken in years.”

“So?”

“You can’t be here. Your—” He shakes his head. “Isn’t your mother worried about you?”

Hakyeon’s eyes cloud. The room’s temperature plummets suddenly—drastically—and Hongbin shudders, reminded of a certain, shadowy silhouette perched on the windowsill in his room.

“Ha—”

_Hades._

“H-Hakyeon?” he struggles, blinking fast.

A cold hand reaches towards him, clamping his neck, icy fingers pressing down—choking him.

He gasps for air, desperate; gags.

The hand knocks him backwards.

The room turns black.

**Author's Note:**

> so that was part 1! i hope you guys enjoyed it uwu i really tried my best ... let me know what you think w some kudos and comments and stay tuned for Parts 2 and 3~
> 
> thank you for reading and ily all so much!


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